


fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me

by curovogel



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fix-It, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 07:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4254453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curovogel/pseuds/curovogel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nagisa gets hit.</p><p>It’s funny, really, because it was one of those shots that he could have easily dodged. If he weren’t so distracted by the boy standing across from him, he could have swiftly slid out of the way and let the paintball glide past him. If he took the time to take in all of his surroundings instead of focusing on each inhale and exhale out of Karma’s full lips, Nagisa would have taken down his assailant in a blink of an eye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by the wonderful [lymek](http://lymek.tumblr.com/)! any errors that you may catch are purely my own mistakes.

Nagisa gets hit.

It’s funny, really, because it was one of those shots that he could have easily dodged. If he weren’t so distracted by the boy standing across from him, he could have swiftly slid out of the way and let the paintball glide past him. If he took the time to take in all of his surroundings instead of focusing on each inhale and exhale out of Karma’s full lips, Nagisa would have taken down his assailant in a blink of an eye.

“Nakamura,” Karma looks torn between frustration and surprise, “I thought I told you to stay out of it.”

Nakamura just smiles, steps out of the shadows with a toss of her hair, and fires another paint bullet at Karma. The other doesn’t even flinch when red paint explodes against the left of his chest, and Nagisa dully wonders how one single action makes him feel like _he’s_ the outsider.

“Sentiment is an assassin’s folly,” she replies, not even sparing Nagisa a glance. “Don’t you remember what Bitch-sensei told us?” Her tone is teasing, light, and stands out against the darker and heavier atmosphere that had previously covered the duo.

“Didn’t realize you listened to her,” Karma says idly, pocketing his knife.

Nagisa mimics Karma’s action, well aware that the fight between them was over as soon as Nakamura intervened. He wonders if he should leave the area first, but part of him still feels like there’s something to say. They were friends before Korosensei. He doesn’t want them to be strangers after.

“Thought it was a good idea after _someone_ managed to save the day through a French kiss.” Nakamura spins around to cheerfully look at Nagisa, her teasing tone betraying every plausible mood that any of them could have. She’s waving around a cell phone in her free hand while the other one clutching her gun is placed comfortably on a cocked hip. Nagisa takes the time to wonder how she brought that with her, then leans in for a closer look.

Nagisa blushes because _wow_ , Kayano’s hand was clutching him like that and _hm_ , he can’t even really recognize himself as the kisser. But he doesn’t reply, just stares with a full-on blush. His silence is mainly because he’s not in a joking mood, but another part is because he has no clue what to say.

“Besides,” Nakamura rolls her eyes and seamlessly turns her attention back to Karma, “you’ve already given him a second chance. That’s _way_ more generous than what I was expecting—”

“Sorry,” Karma says with an easy smile.

Nagisa hunches his shoulders, tilts his head down and looks at Karma with upturned eyes. The other boy’s lips draw into a thin line when he notices Nagisa’s posture and Nagisa shrinks down even more. Karma’s fists clench and unclench, the blooming red stain over Karma’s left chest—over the _heart_ , Nagisa thinks for a beat—stands out against the rest of his camouflage, and for a second, Nagisa is fairly certain that he’s going to have to take down Karasuma-sensei first just so he can continue fighting after being eliminated.

Karma continues to just simply stare at him, his eyes strangely unreadable. Then, he shakes his head at Nagisa with a sad, grim expression and leaves.

Nakamura heaves a sigh, lifts up her collar to say “copy that”, and then follows Karma into the trees.

And just like that, Nagisa is alone.

 

* * *

 

The blue team loses.

Nagisa tries not to feel bitter as his team falls apart one by one like flies. Karma and Nakamura’s commanding is masterful and the rest of the team know to listen and execute. However, it’s clear to all the spectators that the blue team collapsed on itself with a strong lack of morale. The red paint splatter on Karma’s chest gives away his location, but any attempts to take him down result in defeat by a deadly combination of him and Nakamura.

When the red team wipes out all but one of the blue team, Nagisa turns his attention away from the inevitable slaughter of Isogai and focuses on what this means for him. For him and the class. For him and Koro-sensei.

For him and Karma.

The red team decides to grab the flag rather than attack Isogai, Karma waving it high in the air while the rest of the red team looks on with equally pleased expressions. Bitch-sensei comments on how attacking Isogai with five or more members would have been excessively cruel, perhaps even to the point of causing a schism between him and his assailants, and Koro-sensei simply strokes his chin with a happy expression.

They line up, as if this was a baseball game rather than a life-changing assassination battle. Nagisa stares straight at Karma, the other not meeting his eyes in the slightest, and tries not to feel bad. Koro-sensei announces the winner with delight, then the two lines bow at each other and people break off to chat about the situation. Nobody approaches him, which works out in his favor because Nagisa isn’t in a mood to talk.

He doesn’t get much sleep that night.

 

* * *

  
  
The next day, Karma doesn’t look at him. Karma doesn’t come up to him to talk during lunch. Karma comes to school, which is surprising enough, and does everything as if it were a normal school day. Most of his classmates give Nagisa a wide berth and he wonders if they’re waiting for him and Karma to make up as a signal that everything is back to normal.

Funny how normal meant trying to kill your teacher, who just so happened to be the world’s greatest hitman turned octopus.

Nagisa wonders if he should approach Karma, but ultimately decides against it in true passive fashion. He wonders where he went wrong, about second and maybe third chances, and a part of him wonders if the fight really had been about Koro-sensei and more about the two of them. A part of him considers apologizing, but his tongue feels too heavy to string something coherent together.

Koro-sensei’s fleshy tentacle comes out mid-lecture to correct his English grammar. Nagisa feels his face burn with embarrassment, scribbles out a quick apology for Koro-sensei to peek at, then devotes his attention to his teacher.

 

* * *

 

Nagisa can practically see the strings of nervous energy surrounding their class, a certain tension in the air as they gather to plan out their final assassination.

Karma is sitting on a bench a ways off, idly spinning a knife in his hands. Nagisa glances over at him—he and Karma have drifted apart that he doesn’t even feel comfortable addressing the other boy by his first name—and makes up his mind. It’s unlike him to get so hung up on something so simple, although nothing is ever _simple_ when it comes to Karma.

As soon as Nagisa sits down, Karma fumbles with his knife. It’s brief, almost unnoticeable due to how fast he corrects himself, but Nagisa sees his wavelength shudder. They don’t say anything for a few moments, Nagisa’s simple action garnering the rest of their classmates’s attention, then Nagisa shifts.

“Karma-kun,” he smiles, “it’s been a long time.”

Karma spins the knife around. Silence falls over them and, _alright_ , if that’s how Karma wanted to play, then Nagisa can cut straight to the chase.

“This,” here, Nagisa gestures to the space in between them, “isn’t about Koro-sensei, is it?”

Karma catches his knife and laughs, low and ugly.

“If you haven’t figured that out now, you have no business being here.” A head tilt, hooded eyes, and then Karma laces his hands behind his head and slumps in his seat.

“Don’t be such a stranger,” Nagisa presses his lips together into a grim line, “does our three years mean nothing to you?”

“Three years is a long time,” Karma’s voice is strangely clipped, as if carefully masking his emotions. “Enough to make you think that you know a guy.”

The longer that Nagisa doesn’t get it, the more frustrated he becomes. He wants to grab Karma by the shoulders and shake the answer out of him, but he knows that neither of them would be satisfied with a cheap resolution with half-hearted feelings.

“I’m not the same person—not the same _boy_ —who jumped off the mountain,” Karma changes his posture once again, shifting to one where his elbows are on his thighs and he’s leaning over and staring at his hands. Nagisa knows that the other one is trying to tell him something. A part of him wants to jab that they’re not even in high school yet—might not even make it to high school, depending on how this next assassination goes—but he knows that this isn’t a joking matter.

He tries again.

Nagisa thinks about this year. He bounces his knee, thinking about Karma on top of that grassy hill and the sense of wonder that bloomed within him. He thinks about Karma being the first to injure their previously unhittable teacher and how that felt _right_ , like Karma was the one who could make miracles happen. He thinks about the time that they went to the movies together and how peaceful it had been and how he wanted those days to continue for forever. He thinks about the time that he visited Karma’s house and how he was the only one who Karma would let get close enough to do so and how that made him feel special. He thinks about the time that his lips brushed Karma’s cheek, leaning over to whisper something in the other’s ear and Karma turning just so and how smooth his skin was and how raw and unchapped his own lips had been.

He thinks about them, screaming and shouting at each other just two months ago, and how he saw Karma then before Karma had pushed him around and oh, _oh, of course—_

“I’ve given you enough hints,” Karma mutters under his breath and shoves his hands into his pockets, standing up. Nagisa wants to tell him to wait, that he’s figured everything out, that he will right his wrongs, but no words are coming out so all he can do is snatch Karma’s wrist and squeeze.

Karma doesn’t turn to look at him, but he stops. It’s good enough.

(It’s more than enough. It’s more than he deserves.)

“I was hurt,” he begins, licking his lips. “I never imagined that you’d, that you, that you wouldn’t be on the same side as me.” The words rush out before he can think them through, but Nagisa hopes that Karma will be comforted by his honesty. “I thought that you were leaving me behind, that you not agreeing with me on something so crucial meant a turn for the worse for us.”

“I can’t always agree with you,” Karma interjects, “that doesn’t mean that I dislike you.”

Nagisa huffs a laugh. “I know that _now_. Emotions were wild and tensions were high. I felt betrayed. And then, you insulted my appearance—”

“Emotions were wild and tensions were high,” Karma parrots back, mockingly, and Nagisa takes it all in stride.

“And I saw you as a,” Nagisa licks his lips, “as a,” he tries again, to no avail. He sucks in a breath, wondering why this was so hard.

“I saw you as a bully,” he whispers, looking up at Karma’s turned back and wishing that he could establish eye contact. “I saw you as someone who was only trying to aggravate me by using petty insults. I saw you how everyone else saw you, a rebellious troublemaker who was only trying to stir up conflicts.”

Karma is eerily silent throughout all this. Even his breathing is quieter, shallower, and Nagisa feels relieved that he’s hit the nail on the head.

“You’re so much more than that,” he continues, heedless of how embarrassing this must sound, “you have so many interesting hobbies and conversation with you is never boring. We like the same movies and I always find myself drawn to you. You’re brilliant in the way that I could never be. I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did. I apologize.”

“What,” Karma’s shoulders are shaking, like he’s soundlessly laughing or crying, and Nagisa would do anything just to see his face. “You want me to give you a second chance?”

Nagisa thinks about what Nakamura said when she intervened on their fight, about second chances and how Karma gave him a chance to patch things up two months ago and how he didn’t take it.

“No,” he pleads, and god, desperation wells up and fills his lungs and it just hurts to breathe, “I want you to give me a third chance.”

Karma turns around and Nagisa stares up at him, wondering if the other can tell how badly he wants them to be friends again.

“Fool me once, shame on you,” Karma whispers, “fool me twice, shame on me.”

“Karma-kun,” Nagisa says urgently, standing up to grip the other’s shoulders, “please.” He reaches down to lace their fingers together, Karma’s fingers limply hanging in his hands.

It’s only when Karma’s fingers tentatively squeeze back that Nagisa remembers to breathe.

 

* * *

 

“Gross,” Nakamura wrinkles her nose, “we’re trying to plan an assassination here.”

**Author's Note:**

> crossed posted to my [tumblr](http://dystaxial.tumblr.com/post/123018264123/fool-me-once-shame-on-you-fool-me-twice-shame-on).


End file.
